


Moonlight in His Arms

by MagalaBee



Series: Lorenz/Marianne Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Wedding Night, lorenz/marianne, lorianne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24109066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: On their wedding night, Marianne was full of nerves and anticipation. She wanted to be his, in every possible way.Lorenz/Marianne Week Day 1: Flowers / Firsts
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund & Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, Marianne von Edmund/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Series: Lorenz/Marianne Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739473
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Moonlight in His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> So this oneshot is to kick off Lorenz/Marianne week! I'm not sure what the formal ship name is for them. Lorianne? Marienz? If someone knows, please tell me.
> 
> Also, this came out way longer than I originally thought it would be. My other entries for this week won't be this long, but I hope you all still enjoy! It is an homage to bodice-ripping historical romance novels, because Lorenz and Marianne remind of those kinds of books. It makes for a good ship aesthetic.
> 
> If you enjoy this, please leave Kudos and Comments to help encourage me as I write for this ship week!

Marianne’s bouquet was a gathering of ivory and green. Fern leaves framed a series of gardenias and white carnations-- they had always been her mother’s favorite flower, and she wanted to feel something of her parents with her on her wedding day. The small, downturned bells of Lily-of-the-Valley sprung out from between the larger blooms, her own favorites tucked into the fold. The stems had been wrapped carefully in a pale satin ribbon, where she had gripped them all in her fidgeting, nervous hands.

The bouquet was set aside now.

Marianne placed the bouquet on Lorenz’s vanity table. The leaves and flower petals pressed in on one side, resting fully against the lacquered wood surface. She glanced briefly at her reflection in the small mirror. White lace sleeves hugged her arms, following the line of her shoulders all the way up her neck. It was a beautiful gown, one Hilda had picked out. A tightly fitted bodice and skirts that flared out in an elegant, full bell shape.

“You’re beautiful,” Lorenz murmured. Marianne looked over her shoulder at him, color rising in her cheeks. He had already taken off his waist coat, the outer layer of his beautifully embroidered suit. He had dressed in silver, with gold satin-stitched roses trailing up the front of the coat and covering his vest with graceful vines and colorful blooms.

It was a dashing wedding outfit, and so very Lorenz.

Crossing the room, Lorenz smiled as he stepped in close to Marianne’s back. “May I?” he murmured, his hands rising to the back of her neck, gently offering to help her with the long row of pearl buttons.

Marianne nodded, feeling all at once more in love with him and too nervous to speak. 

His fingers, long and elegant, meticulously began to loosen each button. From the nape of her neck all the way down her spine. Marianne watched him in the small vanity mirror as he did, looking at his face. His eyes were downcast, focused on his task, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Marianne…” he sighed. “My wife. Oh, darling heart, I do so love that I can call you that now.”

“Mmm…” she smiled too. “My husband.”

Her gown loosened around her shoulders as Lorenz continued his downward path. His knuckles brushed against her skin and the top of her corset, and Marianne felt her face and ears growing warmer. She’d be blushing all night, of that she was sure. Throughout their courtship, there had been moments of passion. When they had found themselves alone and kisses had turned more urgent. When hands had clutched and adoringly touched.

But they had never truly consummated their love. Not yet. They had waited, out of an earnest desire to commit themselves to one another and to protect each other from possible scandal should they ever be caught.

It made their wedding night exciting. They had snuck away from the reception banquet early, both of them wanting enough time and energy to devote to one another tonight.

“Do you think anyone has noticed us missing yet?” Lorenz chuckled, his breath warm near her neck. He had leaned a bit closer to kiss the coiled braids over her head.

“Khalid has, I’m sure,” Marianne murmured. “Probably Hilda too… but they’ll distract everyone else.”

“How lucky we are to have good friends,” he mentioned, his fingers finishing with the buttons and his hands sliding inside her dress, helping to loosen it from her figure. His eyes found hers briefly in the mirror, they were soft with a special kind of worship that he reserved just for her. 

Marianne’s breath caught in her throat, holding his gaze in the glass. Her cheeks were a feverish shade of pink, but her hands weren’t shaking.

She wasn’t afraid to be this vulnerable with him.

Lorenz bent his head, kissing the back of her neck softly. Marianne pulled her tight sleeves down at her wrists, helping him loosen the layer of lace and petticoats from her. His arms looped around her middle, hugging her corseted torso against his chest. Marianne let out a small giggle as he did, giddy and a bit nervous from the anticipation.

“Look at you,” he whispered against her neck. “Whatever have I done to have earned you?”

“Oh Lorenz, hush,” Marianne laughed.

“No,” he shook his head, propping his chin against her shoulder and once again finding her eyes in the mirror. “Look… Look at your beauty, Marianne. Look at my arms around you… You are stunning. You are wanted.”

Marianne fell silent, doing as he asked. Her eyes flickered away from his face, focusing on his arms around her middle, his hands pressed desirously against the front boning of her corset. His fingers gripped at her, hands drifting eagerly from her waist towards the confines of her breasts. She felt a fluttering in her stomach. 

She was wanted. She wasn’t cursed. She wasn’t discarded. And she knew that Lorenz would remind her every day for the rest of their lives if she needed him to. He’d never let her feel like a burden again.

“Lorenz…” her voice was a delicate whisper, breathing his name from the space between her lungs and her quickening heart.

“My darling,” he murmured at her ear. “May I take you to bed?”

“Yes--”

Without hesitation, Lorenz’s arms tightened around her and he lifted Marianne off her feet. Smooth and swift, he picked her up and swung her out from the puddle of white lace and gossamer around her ankles. Marianne let out a small yelp of laughter as he did. He set her down on the floor, before the bed and kissed her neck again.

“That corset looks so tight,” he chuckled playfully. “Surely you should take it off.”

“L-Let me,” Marianne offered, feeling giddy and nervous both. Lorenz obliged her, though, and let go, taking a step back from her.

She reached around her back, tugging at the laces and loosening them. She wiggled her shoulders and hips to make the boning pliant and took a deep breath with new flexibility. Turning around to face him, Marianne saw that Lorenz had undone the buttons on his embroidered vest. He was shrugging it off when she faced him, and Marianne saw how his cheeks had also come to flush. He was handsome and boyish like this. Looking at her with an eagerness, a hunger. 

His vest fell to the floor with her gown and he pulled her shirt from the tuck of his high waisted breeches. Quickly, he pulled that over his head too, letting it join the rest of their wedding clothes. His bare chest looked beautiful in the candlelight. He was a refined gentleman with the figure of a well-chiseled knight. 

Carved from marble.

“You… look like a statue,” Marianne whispered, her hands trying to unclasp the front anchors of her corset, but she fumbled too much with her nerves. It didn’t help that she couldn’t look away from him and his broad, strong shoulders.

“Would you like some help?” Lorenz offered, smirking.

“Yes…”

He quickly kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck. A gentle line towards her clavicle before he hooked his fingers over the top of her corset. His knuckles pressed between her breasts, his thumbs flattened on the front of the garment, and with a swift twist and pull, each fixture clicked out of their anchors, coming apart in a hushed chorus of metal and fabric.

Marianne gasped, and on instinct, her arms came to cover herself when her corset fell away. She had never been so exposed before. In nothing but her stockings and her undergarments. Lorenz’s hands framed her hips, his eyes roving her face and her shoulders and the way her breasts pressed together when she tried to cover her own nakedness.

“Marianne,” Lorenz’s voice was low and silken. He lifted one hand to brush against her cheek, cradling her face in his hand. The tips of his fingers sifted into her hair. “You don’t have to be shy. If you’d prefer we just go to sleep, that’s fine. I would never want you to be anything but comfortable with me.”

“No, I want this,” she was careful not to let herself stutter or hesitate when she said it. “I want you, Lorenz, I’m just…” she gulped. “I’m just not used to being so naked.”

“I can understand that,” he chuckled. “What if… you lied on the bed? It might feel better with the bedding at your back? Not quite so open to the whole world, hm?”

Marianne liked the sound of that. She turned her head into his palm and kissed it. Then she stepped past him and to the bed, sitting at the edge of it. The duvet was made of silk satin, with beautiful stitching along it. A tasteful collection of pillows, both practical and decoration rested along the headboard. She laid down, her back falling into the bedspread with a soft ‘poof,’ and sinking into the mattress. Marianne looked up at the tapestry canopy and for a brief moment marveled that this is the bed she’d be waking up in tomorrow morning.

The bed she would keep waking up in, at Lorenz’s side, day after day.

Her husband leaned over her, laying half overtop her. His hair fell down one side of his face, the long violet locks liked a curtain of midnight.

“Hello, my love,” he whispered.

“Hello,” she whispered back, holding his gaze as she slowly unbent her arms, bringing her hands away from herself. Her breasts fell to either side slightly as she lay on her back. Their heavy, full weight becoming soft hills across her chest.

Marianne watched as Lorenz’s eyes drifted down her face and to her bosom. The pink tint in his face grew darker, and the emotion in his face grew more heated. As he leaned against her side, she could feel a stirring against her thigh. He gulped as he stared, and Marianne felt unexpectedly confident.

“Lorenz… you can touch me,” she invited him quietly. 

“Oh, Marianne… you are a saint,” he whispered, descending to kiss against her sternum. One of his hands fell to her hip, sliding up her side and coming to cup one of her breasts. Marianne’s breath caught in her throat as he pushed her breasts together, peppering each of them with passionate, wanting kisses. His lips kissed over and over, his tongue brushing against her skin in his moment of rushed frenzy. 

“Lorenz--” Marianne gasped, one of her hands sifting into his hair.

“You are ethereal,” he muttered between her breasts. “You are moonlight come to life in my arms…” His lips moved to kiss each pink bud of her nipples, toying with them between his teeth. Marianne gasped and squirmed beneath him, a growing need in her belly. 

“Lorenz, please--” she begged, though she didn’t even know what exactly she was begging for. Lorenz seemed to know, though. Somehow, he knew what to do with her.

“Don’t fret, my love, I know,” he sighed before tilting his head up for a moment, meeting her gaze from his perch at her bosom. One last kiss given there before he shifted his position over her and his hand caressed over her stomach to finish undressing her. “I can just hardly help myself. You are spectacular.”

“Oh, please, you don’t have t--”

“No, no, I do,” he promised. “Everyday for the rest of our life together, Marianne, I must tell you how much I adore you.”

Marianne already felt burning with her ardent flush, but the poetry of his words made her feel even warmer. A growing, impatient need between her legs. 

Quickly, her undergarments were gone, but Lorenz didn’t bother ridding her of her stockings. They were made of thinly woven silk, with tiny blue flowers embroidered down their sides. Lorenz gently coaxed her legs apart so that he could poise himself between them. His palms traced the line of flowers up each leg and he held her gaze, smiling down at her with his beautiful, fox-faced eyes.

She opened her mouth, about to remind her husband that he needed to take off his britches before they could make love, but before Marianne had the chance, Lorenz moved, bringing his head low between her legs.

“Lorenz!” she gasped when his lips covered her vulva. Her hands clenched at the bedding as he sent a jolt of lust up her spine. Hilda had alluded to something like this the night before, winking and nudging her side as she did. But Marianne hadn’t quite understood what it meant at the time. 

Lorenz kissed and lapped at her core, sorting between her labia, searching for her center. Marianne was helpless to squirm and moan with each of his hungry motions. His jaw opened and closed, teeth careful to tease at her intimacy. While he was moving a bit blindly against her, Marianne still felt overwhelmed by pleasure. He made meticulous mental notes of each moan and gasp and cry she gave, wanting to return there in the coming nights, to memorize what she liked best.

By the time he found her clitoris, Marianne was strung out and pleading with him to loose her. 

“Oh, please…. P-please, Lorenz, I can’t…”

Without saying a word, he took her body’s sensitive pearl between his lips and sucked slightly, just enough to set her over her edge. Marianne’s back arched, her head thrown back as a wave of release climbed up her body. Every muscle in her tensed and released, clenching at Lorenz’s lips as the waves crashed again and again through her.

“Oh…” she breathed, unable to make any coherent words. She felt hot and damp and beautiful as her climax gradually ebbed within her. She gulped and tried to catch her breath, eyes having fallen shut for a moment as she savored the rapture of ecstasy. “Lorenz…”

“You are a masterpiece,” he murmured. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Lorenz had lifted himself up, his face a mixture of rose-tinted desire and first night jitters as he unbuttoned his britches. “Marianne, you are every gift I have never deserved.... You are--”

“Lorenz,” she interrupted his habitual compliments. “I… I love you.” Such a simple sentiment, and one she had said many times before. But in the midst of such a night, it held a deeper meaning. “I love all of you.”

He blinked and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. A smile and a slight chuckle given before he joined her in their intimate vulnerability, kicking aside his britches and revealing himself to her. 

Marianne felt a touch of nervousness looking at him. She has studied medicine as part of her studies in healing magic. She was well aware of the biology behind their union. But seeing his arousal in full was a bit intimidating. 

How much he wanted her…

Marianne pressed her back flat against the bed again, bending her knees and pushing them a bit further apart so that he had more room to settle. Lorenz came to lay over her, his chest against her own, his erection pressed against her plush entrance.

“My love,” he murmured, tucking a strand of blue hair away from her face. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she nodded her head. Marianne knew that she was. Even if it hurt, she wanted to be his wife. Totally and completely. She wanted to be his. “I’m ready.”

He kissed her with a slow-burning desire, bringing one hand to hold her hip steady and help guide their bodies together. “I love you,” he whispered with just as much raw emotion as she had. “Tell me if it hurts.”

Marianne tensed and yelped quietly when he pushed inside her. She felt the ridge of his head entering first, followed by the stiff, hot length of him in slow increments. He was trying to be considerate of her, pushing every lustful impulse to the back of his mind.

“I’m alright,” she assured him, already feeling short of breath. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re as tense as a bowstring, Marianne.”

“It’s not that bad, it’s just… Stretching,” she told him. “It’s different. But please, don’t stop.”

“You’re sure?” Lorenz asked. He was panting too, and she could see the barely restrained need in his eyes. It took everything he had to put her first.

“I’m sure,” she told him, looping her arms around his shoulders. “Please.... Lorenz, keep going. Don’t stop.”

With a nod, he continued his stilted journey. Lorenz tried to remain gradual and slow, but as he continued, rocking his hips in and out of her, it was impossible to stay so slow. He began to lose any sense of restraint and propriety, his eyes roaming from her face to her breasts, which swayed and bounced with each thrust. “Goddess help me, you are irresistible,” he muttered, looking back into her cashmere brown eyes.

“I love you too,” she gasped, biting her bottom lip in a mixture of pleasure and pain that Marianne could only call aching. She felt full to the brim with him, and yet as his pace increased, every buck of his hips brought him deeper within her. Marianne’s back began to arch again, though, pressing herself up and against him, her body trying to respond to each of his thrusts.

Lorenz moaned, losing his poetics as he let the last of his noble manners go. Feeling absolutely lost in her, he grew hurried and desperate. His hips rutting against her as the pleasure grew and grew and grew--

“Ah!” he gasped, burying himself to the hilt inside her as he clutched at her hips. “M-Marianne--”

She hugged him against her, burying his face against his shoulder and shuddering in a primal satisfaction as she felt his climax inside her. Lorenz went lax in her arms, and Marianne was glad to hold him. She spread her palms flat against his back, as if soothing and comforting him.

It was the most vulnerable he had ever been. No airs, no traditions, not rules that society laid out for them. Alone, he could be unhinged and imperfect.

“Oh… Lorenz,” Marianne whispered. “My husband…”

“My wife,” he whispered back, kissing her temple in a quiet worship. “That was... “ he hesitated. “Well, beyond words.”

Marianne smiled and nuzzled against him. They both turned to one side, still curled together as they adjusted themselves to lay amongst the pillows. He wrapped his arms around her, encircling her and nuzzling against the now matted mess of her braids.

“Lady Gloucester,” Lorenz sighed. “You are quite enchanting.”

Marianne closed her eyes, hiding her blush against him as she mumbled back, “Only in your eyes, Lorenz.”

“Heh… let the rest of the world be blind, then.”


End file.
